


About Last Night

by stellarmeadow



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny wakes up in Steve's bed. Naked. And does the logical thing--he runs away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About Last Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [azziria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azziria/gifts).



> Response to a prompt from azziria, which is in the notes at the end, since it's a spoiler. Thanks for the prompt that broke through my writer's block! :) 
> 
> ~~~

Dark.

That was Danny's first thought when he woke up with a throbbing headache and a tongue that felt like he'd spent the night licking Grace's entire stuffed animal collection. It took him a moment to realize he was in a bed far more comfortable than his own, another moment after that to realize he wasn't in the bed alone, and that there was a surprising lack of clothing in the bed on both sides. As in none, from what he could feel. Just soft, hot skin draped over him like a human blanket.

He already knew what he'd see when he opened his eyes, bits and pieces of last night slamming back into his head, increasing the headache. He remembered drinking out behind Steve's house. They'd run out of beer and switched to a bottle of scotch Steve had discovered in the back of the kitchen cabinet. 

Things got a little hazier and fragmented after that, but he had enough images and moments to realize that stuffed animals were not what he'd been licking, and that Steve had been very generous and enthusiastic about returning the favor. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ Which, no, they hadn't done, thank God, because otherwise Danny would have had to transfer. Not to HPD, either. More like the North Pole.

At least this he could maybe survive, their partnership could maybe survive, if only Danny could get out of here before Steve woke.

He tried to slide out from under Stave's body, but Steve's arm pulled him back in. He was like a straight jacket. No, not quite the right analogy, though sometimes he thought Steve could _use_ a straight jacket.

He tried to pry Steve's arm off, but Steve's grip only got tighter the harder Danny pulled, like a Chinese finger trap, Danny thought, finding the analogy at last. Taking the lesson from the finger trap, Danny relaxed. After a moment, Steve did as well, and Danny slowly, carefully slid out from under Steve's arm and out of his bed. 

It took him what felt like forever to find his clothes, hindered by the dark, the need for silence, and the fact that his clothes were not in the room. He found his underwear on the landing at the top of the stairs, and his shirt on the lamp by the couch. His pants were just inside the door to the back yard, though he remembered in a bright, vivid flash, that they'd been undone long before they'd left the beach.

His shoes, at least, he remembered taking off before they'd gone outside. They were right by the door where he'd left them, socks neatly tucked inside. He picked them up after he'd dressed, waiting until he was in the car before putting them on.

It wasn't until he was at least a mile away that he started to breathe again.

***

He didn't sleep when he got home. He couldn't , even after a couple of Advil dulled the headache. Every time he closed his eyes a jumbled flash of memories played across the back of his eyelids like porn someone had chopped up and mixed around. 

He gave up on sleep and settled for a long, hot shower that helped even more with the headache. Toothpaste and mouthwash helped wash away the taste of the biggest mistake of his career. Coffee was his next move, hoping the caffeine would help him make sense of things in the short time he had left before he had to face the music.

What the hell was he supposed to say when he saw Steve? Of course, that depended on what kind of mood Steve was in. There was no way of knowing which Steve he'd get in reaction this--Super SEAL, who was capable of locking away every emotion in the book, or Nosy Steve, who couldn't stop badgering Danny until he spilled every secret in his head. 

Danny fervently hoped for Super SEAL. The secrets involved in this one were too much to handle. He might as well toss a grenade at their partnership. Though come to think of it, if Steve still had grenades in the car, they might be an effective distraction if needed.

Danny zoned at the table, drifting in the not enough sleep, too much alcohol land of not thinking about it, until his phone buzzed. 

_Text from McGarrett_ the screen read. Danny gathered his courage and tapped the alert before he could lose his nerve.

_Where are you?_

No way to tell how mad Steve was from a text--the bastard could've at least used an emoticon. Then again, Danny was pretty sure there was no emoticon for post-drunken-sex moods, though he would've expected college kids to make that a priority.

Before Danny could formulate a response, Steve texted again. 

_Taking the truck to work. See you at HQ_

Perfectly innocent words that seemed so ominous under the circumstances. Danny finished his coffee, rinsed the cup, and headed out before he could change his mind and leave town. 

***

Danny's place was closer to HQ than Steve's, which made picking Steve up in the mornings silly, but Danny had stopped minding ages ago. Today it meant he was already at his desk when he heard Kono say good morning to Steve down the hall.

Each one of Steve's footsteps as he drew closer to Danny's door sounded like anvils hitting the floor. Danny braced himself as Steve turned the corner and walked into Danny's office.

"Where were you this morning?" Steve asked. The reply Danny had carefully planned out on the drive in died as Steve said, "Why didn't you pick me up?"

Danny blinked. "Why didn't I pick you up?" he asked slowly.

"Okay, I know you can't be that hung over," Steve said, "or you'd have been on my couch instead of gone. Clearly you didn't drink as much as I did."

Resisting the temptation to pinch himself and see if he was asleep, Danny asked, "Uh...how much do you remember about last night?"

Steve shrugged, coming further into the room to sit on the corner of Danny's desk. "Not a lot," he admitted. "I remember breaking out the scotch, and from then it's a little...." He shrugged again. "It was a rough case," he said in a low voice.

It had been especially rough on Steve, two kids having lost both their parents in a car explosion, courtesy of a rival business's idea of a hostile takeover. They'd been drinking to celebrate catching the asshole, but it had felt more like a wake in some ways. "Yeah," Danny said. "I know."

It made him feel like shit. He should've stayed sober enough to take care of Steve, should've seen this coming. Instead he'd empathized, feeling his partner's grief at the painful reminder of what he'd lost and how, and gotten shitfaced and taken advantage of the situation. Taken advantage of Steve.

"Thanks for taking care of me, Danno," Steve said, putting his hand on Danny's shoulder, his thumb covering in the exact spot where Danny had discovered a hickey during his shower that morning.

It had to be a coincidence. Had to be. "Isn't that in my job description?" Danny teased.

"Considering your job description is whatever I say it is?" Steve teased back. "Yes."

He squeezed Danny's shoulder for a second, thumb pressing into the hickey and going straight to Danny's dick. "Come on, Chin's got the tox report on Santana."

"When did that come in?" 

"About an hour ago," Steve said, pushing off Danny's desk. "If you'd been where you were supposed to be this morning, you'd know."

He walked out, leaving Danny to wonder if he was supposed to see a double meaning then. But no, Steve had said he didn't remember. Why would he say that if it wasn't true? And Danny hadn't picked him up. That's all he meant. 

Shoving his paranoia aside, Danny followed Steve out to the bullpen.

***

"That light was red three hours ago, Steven!"

Steve shot a glance at Danny. "And Ramos ran it," he said logically.

Okay, sure, they were in pursuit, but Danny was feeling the effects of last night and everything since, and he was not above admitting he was cranky.

"Could you at least try not to hit someone?"

Steve's glance was a second longer than Danny was comfortable with on a number of levels. "Sorry, I guess last night has me distracted."

And there was the main reason Danny was cranky. Steve's supposed alcohol amnesia was annoying enough, but the comments he kept making had Danny on edge. They were all delivered with such innocence that Danny had trouble deciding if Steve was fucking around or it was just a big coincidence. 

At lunch, for example, Steve had stretched and said "I feel like I did an hour's worth of yoga last night--did you bend me in weird positions or something?"

Danny had nearly choked on his sandwich.

Ramos had been lucky in his driving, dodging a number of cars and pedestrians, until his luck ran out. He swerved to avoid a car and smashed into a pole instead.

Whatever drug he was on it must've been good, because he jumped out of the car while the powder was still settling from the airbag and started running. Danny was out of the car before Steve had come to a full stop, flying across Ala Moana Park after Ramos.

He got close enough for a flying tackle, letting Ramos cushion their fall to the ground with his face. Steve caught up as Danny was zip tying Ramos' hands behind his back. Danny stood, wincing as his knee protested this after all the abuse it had taken since last night.

"Knee okay?" Steve asked.

Danny stared at him. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"That looked like a hard landing, and after last night...."

"What did I do to my knee last night?" Danny asked, hoping the memory of being on his knees in front of Steve, sucking him off, didn't show on his face.

"I'm assuming you took me to bed," Steve said, wide-eyed. "I'm not exactly light--getting me up those steps must've been hard on your knees."

Ramos tried to roll onto his back, giving Danny a much needed distraction as he stepped on the guy to keep him in place. "My knee is fine," Danny said shortly, not looking at Steve. 

"Okay."

Ramos sang like a bird as soon as they got him into interrogation. Danny booked him and came back to his office to find Steve waiting by the door.

"Hey," Steve said, "I was thinking maybe we could have a repeat of last night, maybe with a little less alcohol."

Danny stared at him for about the tenth time that day. "You know what, I can't do this," he said tiredly.

"Do what?" Steve looked confused with just a hint of uncertainty.

"This." Danny waved his hand between them. "If you're fucking with me, just say so."

Steve just stood there, mouth closed, uncertainty winning the battle on his face.

"Fine," Danny said, turning and stalking off to the men's room. 

He hadn't had time to lock the door before Steve pushed it open, crowding inside and leaning back against the door as if Danny might make a break for it. "I thought you wanted to ignore it," Steve said after a moment, voice low, face nothing but uncertain now.

"Oh? Is that why you've been making all those comments all day while lying to me that you couldn't remember a thing?"

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if fighting for control. "You left, Danny," he said finally. "I woke up and you were gone. No goodbye, not even a note. You just took off. Was I not supposed to take that as a hint that you wanted to forget it happened? Because if not, those are some pretty mixed signals, pal." 

"Right, because faking amnesia is such a signal that you wanted to remember."

"I swear to God, Danny--" Steve took another deep breath before he tried again. "What do you want from me?"

 _Everything._ Danny lost a moment as the word came so easily to his mind. He hadn't realized how far this had gone for him, had no idea he'd wanted anything beyond--

"Danny?" Steve's uncertainty was laced with concern. "Look, I'm sorry. We can talk about this later."

"No."

Steve's face closed down. "Okay," he said, pressing back against the door, his back ramrod straight. "Okay. I won't mention it again."

"No," Danny said quickly, as Steve reached behind himself for the door knob. "I meant no, I don't want to wait. I want to figure this out."

Steve let his shoulders relax a tiny bit. "You want to figure it out so we can put it behind us, or...."

"What? No. I mean, I want to figure out how we can --that is unless you want to put it behind us."

"Danno, I've been trying to figure out how to put it in _front_ of us for months."

Danny blinked. "Why didn't you just say something instead of getting drunk, making your move, and then pretending it never happened?"

"Because you left?" Steve said, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. Which...Danny supposed he had a point. "I woke up and you'd run out in the middle of the night. What was I supposed to do, chase you down and have a heart-to-heart? Because leaving is a pretty loud statement."

"I was scared," Danny said. "I woke up and you were all... _there_ with your insanely hot skin all bare and all over and...I panicked, okay?"

"And now?"

It took Danny a second to follow the conversation. "Am I panicking now?" At Steve's nod, Danny shook his head. "Um...maybe just a little? That doesn't mean I don't want this," he added quickly, as Steve's face fell. "I don't really have the best track record."

"I don't have any track record at all."

Which showed Danny just how serious Steve was about this. Too many hours spent talking about their lives meant Danny knew all about Steve's extensive dating past. If he was counting this as something completely different...wow. "Okay," Danny said, swallowing carefully. "Where do we go from here?"

Steve put a hand on Danny's shoulder, landing on the hickey again. "Home?"

Danny started to ask which one, then he got Steve's meaning. "Yeah," Danny said, determined. "Home."

\---  
END

**Author's Note:**

> The Prompt: Steve pretends to have lost his memory to wind Danny up for some reason.
> 
>  
> 
> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


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